All that Matters
by Roslin Fan
Summary: Bill's life is incomplete without Laura.
1. All that Matters

There were times he felt her. In the moments between sleeping and waking, he'd think they were on Galactica in his quarters, or that she was on Colonial One but would be coming to see him soon. Then he'd awaken and remember.

He heard her voice when he was building their cabin. Their entire property was according to her specifications.

He felt her kisses in the wind, saw her in the sunrises and sunsets. Those were the times he spoke to her the most.

He still tripped over her shoes. They were in the middle of the floor, just as they'd always been.

Every time he went into their closet, he smelled her. Her suits, his uniforms, and his robe: They all had her scent.

Sometimes he almost forgot. He'd sit on his sofa, watching the door, expecting her to knock any moment. It didn't matter that it was their home; she'd always knock. That was just her way.

When he remembered again, he'd stop watching the door and start dinner.

He always cooked for two, trying to make what she liked. She had never been picky, but she never ate enough. He wanted to change that.

One morning, he woke up, and she was there, in their bed.

"Laura?"

"Hi, Bill."

"Are you real?"

"What do you think?"

"I want you to be."

"That's all that matters, isn't it?"

It was her. Her smile, her beautiful hair, those eyes-they were particularly bright in the sunlight. He stroked her cheek, and she held his hand there.

"How?"

She smiled. "You always did ask the practical questions."

He remembered all that had been between them.

"You were pretty pragmatic yourself, Madame President."

"I missed you, Bill." Life was boring without him around.

"Me too."

"I love you."

"It's about time."


	2. What Matters Most

They lay in their bed gazing into each other's eyes. His hand still cradled against her cheek. The sunlight was streaming in from their cabin's windows. The way the light hit her hair and eyes made her even more beautiful. The lighting on Galactica and Colonial One had never done her justice. Neither had Kobol nor New Caprica. Bill realized he had never seen his goddess on a perfect sunny day. They had both been robbed, as Laura was clearly meant to bask in its glory.

Bill realized he didn't care how she was there with him or why. She was there. She was real because he wanted her to be real, and that was all that mattered like she said. However, it turned out Laura had questions of her own.

"Are we married?" Laura asked.

"I always wanted to be."

"Really?"

"Since Kobol."

"But you never asked."

"No."

"You gave me your ring."

"Yes."

"Then, I'll say 'yes.'"

"Will you marry me?"

Laura giggled and Bill chuckled.

"We never did things in the proper order, did we?" Laura asked, after she stopped giggling.

"Convention can frak itself."

"Well said, Admiral."

"Thank you, Madame President."

"I love you."

"You've said that."

"I've missed or squandered a lot of opportunities to say it, so if you don't mind, I'd like to make up for that now."

"Yes, Ma'am. And for the record, I love you too."

"Since we're married-"

"Are we?"

"Or we will be soon. I'd like a proper wedding, Bill."

"Really? I didn't peg you as the type."

"I became the type."

"And I'll give you whatever you want."

"Hmm. You always do."

"Is the cabin okay?"

"This bed certainly is. That's all I care about for now."

"Fair enough."

"Now, as I was saying, since we're married, I'd like to begin our honeymoon."

"I acquiesce to your conditions, Madame President."

"You always do."

"Not always, as I recall."

"When it counted most, you did."

Laura gazed at her husband or fiancee-whichever he was-adoringly. Bill's face matched hers.

They both knew what they wanted-what they always wanted-but for the first time since the attacks, they weren't hurried. There was no crisis to attend to. No war. No illness. No fleet. It was just them in their cabin, their bed specifically.

"You're so beautiful."

"Oh, stop." She smacked his arm playfully.

"Allow me to prove it to you, then."

Bill reached out to his wife with his free hand and pulled her flush against him. Then he claimed her lips with his own. He loved kissing her. The way she moaned in his mouth-she'd always been vocal. The way she always responded to him. They kissed for an indeterminate amount of time. There was no reason to stop, save to move on to other activities.

When they parted, they smiled.

"I want to see you," Bill said. He wanted to know what his goddess looked like in the morning light.

"Okay." She'd always been a confident woman with a healthy body image. Even when the cancer got the best of her, she had always felt comfortable with Bill. His unconditional love made it safe for her to bare herself to him-body and soul.

Bill threw the bedcovers back. It was the middle of summer, so they really were unnecessary anyway. She was wearing the red dress.

"This dress?"

"I knew you always liked it. I must say, I like it quite a bit too."

"It's beautiful." He loved the way she filled it out so perfectly. "But it has to come off."

"Yes, sir. Right away, sir. Anything you say, sir."

He started with the wrap, as he had that night. Then he worked on the bodice. He kissed and stroked each new place, and she hummed in delight and pleasure. He unzipped her skirt, and she helped him pull it down and off. It joined the rest of her outfit on the floor.

"Where are your shoes?"

"I wasn't going to wear them to bed, Bill. They're by the door."

"Where they always are?"

"Yes."

He smiled. It was like she'd always been there. Maybe she was, and he hadn't realized it. It didn't matter. She was there, then. That and their love was all that mattered anymore.

He removed her bra. Her left breast was perfectly healthy, matching her right one. He held them. Kissed, licked, and nipped them. He had always loved them; he loved playing with them and bringing her pleasure through his attentions. He was free to do that again. And he took full advantage of that freedom.

Laura hummed, moaned, cried, and screamed her pleasure as loud as she wanted. There was no-one around for miles. No press or quorum to worry about. No disapproving fleet members.

Bill relished every sound she made. They always were a study in contrasts. She was vocal while he was quiet. She was light, and he was dark. But when they got together, they swirled in perfect harmony.

When he was ready, he moved down her body to her panties. Once they were removed, he started doing that thing with his tongue that she always enjoyed. Although she never told him, Bill suspected her other lovers had been selfish. That suspicion disgusted him.

After she climaxed and came down from her high, she realized the inequity of their situation.

"You're wearing too much, Admiral."

Bill gazed at his wife. She was glorious in the natural light, gleaming from the sweat of their love making. She was ready, and so was he. He moved his body closer, so she could reach him.

"Let's fix that."

He was in his bed clothes: tanks and boxers. Laura quickly stripped him of both. Then she claimed his mouth with hers. As they kissed, she wrapped her hand around his shaft.

She guided it toward her, and he slipped inside. They moved like they had all the time in the worlds. They came together, and Bill collapsed beside her, clutching her close.

She hummed at their intimacy.

"Not bad, Mrs. adama."

"Not bad at all, Mr. Roslin."

Then they fell asleep, basking in the glow of their love, which rivaled that of the sun.


End file.
